A Case of Sunshine and Rainbows
by Astraea Eos
Summary: Drift x Brite Bomber. Drift has a crush on his deranged best friend from school, Brite; but does this peculiar, sunshiny girl have the same feelings? Or is she much more sinister and darker than she originally appeared?
1. Chapter 1

**I wrote this on request for a guest that commented on _Everybody Dies On Spawn Island_ (another fanfic of mine) that wanted a DriftxBriteBomber. I've been more of a DriftxCalamity, but now I think I ship him with all the Fortnite chicks. Let's be honest, Drift is total daddy material *drools*. Also, RIP Lazy Links. You will live in forever in our hearts, minds, and this wonderful beautiful and hopefully not too cringey fanfiction you are about to read.**

* * *

"Earth to Drift! Earth to Drift!" Maven called.

Drift unzonked out from his nap and sat up, scratching his head. It took the Master Rifter (as he called himself) a few seconds to remember where he was. Oh yeah, at school, seated in one of the warehouses of Frosty Flights for aviation class (in the back row, as usual). Surrounded by eager students who were all staring at him.

"So, as I was asking, where does the pilot sit to control the Stormwing?" Maven repeated, looking expectantly at him through her black framed glasses.

Drift racked his mind for the answer, but the only things he could pull up about aviation was the way Brite's long pink ponytail _flew _in the wind when they tore down the golf course at Lazy Links to terrorize Gunner every now and then. He studied the blackboard behind Maven containing a hand drawn diagram of a Stormwing in hopes of an answer.

"Umm, the left wing?" He guessed randomly.

A couple of the students snickered and Maven sighed. "It's the cockpit," she said.

"Cockpit, got it," Drift echoed. As his teacher rambled ahead on the safety precautions of a proper flight, his mind wandered back to something more interesting- Brite Bomber. His best friend-turned-crush had been all he could think about these days. When they met a few months ago when Brite signed up for the same Rifting class as him, he never would have guessed what good friends- and potentially more- they would become. They quickly bonded over their love for the color hot pink, anime, and sunshine+rainbows. A bit odd, but Drift didn't care. He just worried of what other people would think.

Finally, the Llama Bell emote sounded from the school speakers, signaling the end to the day of Fortnite Uni. Drift grabbed his stuff, put on his black mask, and went to find Brite; who was situated near the solar panels for her watch duty as usual. Frosty Flights was under constant threat of attack from its surrounding villages, and was in dire need of heavy guard 24/7. Because of this, select students were put on guard shift daily. Drift always worried when Brite was on guard, although she was a swift warrior and knew how to fight. Brite was just.. different.

He easily found his best friend, who was sitting on one of the panels and talking to her unicorn pickaxe she'd dubbed Rainbow Smash. Her hot pink hair was pulled up in it's usual ponytail and her face was solemn as always. Brite had always been a little deranged, and more than a little obsessed with sunshine and rainbows. Drift knew she liked having long conversations with the inanimate pickaxe and he let it be.

He waved to the bright pink haired girl as he trotted over, smiling. "Hey, Bri Bri!" He greeted cheerfully.

Brite didn't respond and kept mumbling to her pickaxe. Drift patiently waited a few seconds until she slowly looked up and saw him.

"Hi... Drifty," she mumbled softly. A pink flush spread across her cheeks and Drift grinned.

"C'mon, we're going to my place now, and then Gunner'll pick you up," He announced, holding out his hand. Brite happily took it and they walked down the snow piled sidewalk to Drift's ATK.

"Man, Sergeant Winters needs to hire shovel duty again," Drift commented as he looked at the high snowdrifts covering the walkways.

Brite nodded in response and sighed.

"Long day?"

"Yeah."

"I bet."

Once they reached the parking lot, Drift hopped into his ATK, and as usual, peeked at a photo taped just beneath the dashboard. It was a selfie of him and Brite careening down Lazy on his ATK just a few weeks ago; Brite looking overjoyed into the camera as they shot down the grassy knolls; crashing into passerby's, buildings, and other ATKs. Drift had happened to whip out his phone camera at the perfect moment for the perfect picture. (_AN: that selfie is actually a Season 5 loading screen, look it up!)_

"Happy time," Brite commented, watching him. She poked the little dangle charm of Beef Boss and Tomato Head hanging on the rear view mirror and giggled.

"Best day ever," Drift added. He pulled out his key and put it into the ignition, and soon they were driving home.

The frosty snowdrifts of Frosty Flights melded into warm, carefully cropped grass as they pulled up to the golf resort where Drift lived. He lugged his heavy backpack up to his room and helped Brite with her things.

They quickly settled in his bedroom. It was a sparsely furnished room, decorated with a Power Chord poster and a few graffitis of a _kitsune_ mask here and there. A small collection of selfies of him and Brite were growing just above his work desk scattered with unfinished homework. Brite twirled on his spinning desk chair and Drift laid on his undone bed, fiddling with his non working PS4 controller.

"Batteries probably dead," Brite said with a yawn.

"You know what, you're right," Drift said jokingly. He set down the controller and closed his eyes to catch a nap. Yet, his eyes popped open as he felt Brite crawl onto the bed and lie down next to him.

"Lonely over there," Brite explained, looking sorry.

Drift ignored his pounding heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribcage as Brite scooted closer. "It's no big deal," he mumbled, his face turning red.

They laid in a comfortable silence, but thoughts raced through Drift's mind. Did she know about his true feelings for her? Did she even like him back- or like him as a friend at all? Why her? Why him?

A few seconds later, Drift dared to glance over at Brite. The latter was fast asleep, lying on her back. Drift couldn't help but to smooth her bright pink hair out of her peaceful face as she slept. His eyes drifted down to her lips, sharply shaped and a muted pink. With sudden affection, he leaned forward and laid his head down next to Brite's.

"I sure love you, Bri Bri," he mumbled, inhaling the sugary scent of Brite's hair. "I just wish I had the guts to tell you."

He closed his eyes, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

* * *

"YO, WHAT THE BOOGIE'S GONE DOWN IN HERE?" A familiar, jovial voice shouted.

Drift snapped awake to see Gunner, Brite's twin brother, gallantly entering the room without bothering to knock. The energetic, hopefully 100% sane alter of his sister waltzed into the room with a knowing smile. Drift scrambled off the bed and rubbed sleep out of his eyes. "N-nothing," he mumbled, his voice croaky.

"Whatever. Hi hi Bombshell, it's time to go home," Gunner poked Brite in the leg with his disco wrapped AR.

"Mmm, five... minutes..." Brite mumbled. She buried her face deeper into Drift's pillow.

"Nah, you're gonna miss the next episode of _My Little Llama_," Gunner urged.

That woke Brite up. She sat up in bed, grabbed her pickaxe and backpack and eagerly began to trot out the door with Gunner.

"Aren't you going to give Drifty Boy a hug?" Gunner asked, feigning innocence.

Heat shot to Drift's face and he felt himself blush. He was glad the black mask he wore hid it well. His heart began to pound as Brite turned around and promptly threw her arms around him, squeezing him with affection.

"Aww, thanks," Drift gently returned the gesture. "I... I thank you."

"Bye bye, gotta zoot," Brite muttered. She turned and flashed out the door; the lingering, sugary scent of her hair the only reminiscent of the colorful, strange girl that had just occupied the room seconds ago.

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**Alright! You guys decide the continuation of this for what happens next. I didn't really have any ideas so it's up to you guys! Have fun...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, surprise surprise. I came up with a part 2! I might even make this into a multichap.**

**To the guest in the comments who commented my one shot "didn't fit the storyline", I have no idea why you commented that. No one is obliged to stick with official Fortnite storylines/content; that's the whole point of fanfiction. Don't go around making demands anonymously and expect me to fulfill them if you don't want others doing that to you. Like every single user ever: DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ! :)**

**To the others: thanks for the positive reviews! Believe it or not, they make my day. Sharing my writing is the most special thing I've ever done. Cheers and props!**

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A few days later...

"Drift? Can I see you for a second?" Maven called.

Drift froze from where he was packing up his backpack. Students were already filing out of the Stormwing warehouse, chattering about tonight's Impulse Grenade match against Pleasant. Slowly, Drift set down his backpack and dragged his feet over to Maven's desk. He already knew what was coming. Maven was seated behind her desk spread with blueprints, a stack of tests to correct, and Drift's report card. His aviation teacher wasn't intimidating physically, but Drift knew she wielded the power of giving an F. (Like the school grade, not respect)

"So, you haven't been doing too well in this class, haven't you?" Maven began, pressing her fingertips together.

"Uh, I guess," Drift mumbled. He eyed a Power Chord's Rock Out vinyl leaning against the clunky stereo Maven often blasted when they did solo work.

"You've gone down to a D now, with your rather distasteful test score on Friday," Maven continued. Her manicured nails made an annoying clacking sound as she tapped them together.

"I knew it," Drift grumbled.

"You did?"

"Yeah."

"Well, a Stormwing is just a bunch of metal parts, willpower, and lots of Chug Jug juice, baby! If you actually stayed awake in this class you would be blasting through the skies," Maven said with newfound positivity.

"Thanks, but I prefer my ATK and Rifting," Drift replied drily. "Easier to control."

"True, but Stormwings are more efficient for traveling," Maven contradicted.

"Mhmmm."

"Alright, seriously now," Maven shrugged aside the lighthearted mood. "I want you to succeed in school. And I know this is the only class that's holding you back. Um, what other classes do you have?"

"Shooting Range, Potion Lab, Rifting, Builds, Gliding, Biome Studies," Drift rattled out automatically. He glanced outside and wondered if Brite was looking for him. Sure enough, he spotted the pink haired girl building a Llamaman out of snow by the ice coated landing strip.

"Well, I suggest tutoring for a week or two. Do you know Onesie?" Maven asked, pulling out her laptop.

"That Durr Burger obsessed girl who always wears her PJs to class? Of course," Drift replied. "Um, may I go now?"

"Almost," Maven tapped away on her keyboard for a few seconds. "There, I just sent you some information on the tutoring. Please get back ASAP. Have a great afternoon and please study!"

"Yeah, see ya," Drift called, already halfway out the warehouse gate.

He met up with Brite by the landing strip, who had just finished pickaxing down her llamaman.

"Woah there, feisty pants," Drift laughed, his dark mood lifting as he saw his favorite person. Maybe it was the unobscured sunlight, but Brite seemed, well, briter than usual. And more beautiful, like always.

"Ugly!" Brite scoffed, giving the mound of snow that used to be a llamaman one last stab with her Rainbow Smash.

"Aww, he was a fine looking llama. Let's go," Drift comforted her. Taking the latter's hand, he led her to his ATK.

They drove off, listening to Power Chord's remix of OG Lobby Music. Drift's conversation with Maven and his grades fell behind him the faster they drove. Brite didn't say much, but the simple joy of having her with him was enough to make him forget everything. He told her about the fight Ace and Wild Card had over their diamond llama; which they'd won at the High Stakes tourney. Brite giggled at that.

"Alright, it's a beautiful day. Wanna stop by the pool?" Drift asked as they approached the abandoned pool building and park close to Haunted.

"Heckers yesers," Brite said cheerfully.

"Let's go."

Drift's smile melting into a grimace as they approached the pool. Since it was after school hours, the pool was already pretty crowded. He'd forgotten how busy Friday afternoons were around there. Petty schoolgirls, doofus schoolboys, and the occasional beach ball filled the pool; and loud music thrummed from the speakers. Drift's stomach clenched as he realized a group of girls were overdosing on mini shields. Drift grabbed Brite's hand as they approached.

"Sure about this, Bri Bri?" He asked with concern.

Brite's eyes swept over the crowd. "No. Come back tomorrow," she said. "Mean girls here."

"Alright, lets go play Rocket League at my place," Drift said. They were about to head back to the ATK when a shrill voice shouted out behind them.

"Hey, Drift!" Sun Strider yelled.

The former turned around just in time to see his ex- girlfriend scale the pool's brick wall, slurp juice in hand. She was wearing a tight red swimsuit and her blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail; not to shy attention away from her breasts. Heads popped up behind her; Calamity, Volley Girl, Valor, Snorkel Specialist, Lynx.

"What do you want?" Drift asked dully. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Brite freeze.

"C'mon, I wanna have some fuuuuuun," Strider slurred.

"No, I'm good," Drift tried to walk away, but Strider grabbed his arm.

"C'mon babe, let's get down, baaaaaaby," she sang in a syrupy voice.

"Don't call me that!" Drift snapped. He tried to pry Strider's hand off, but she had a tight grasp.

"No baby, playyyyy with meeeeeeee," Strider begged. From behind the wall, her little clique snickered at him.

Drift glanced at Brite. She was standing beside the ATK, her face ashen, almost on the verge of tears. Despite the sunlight, she looked dark and small now.

"I said, let go!" Drift shook his arm. "You're drunk!"

"C'mon dude, she's hot stuff. You gotta be retarded not to smash!" Snorkel shouted menacingly.

"You know what?" Valor snorted. "He's already retarded for hanging out with her!" She gleefully pointed at the cowering Brite. All the girls chortled.

"You don't have to be with that, um, retard, Drift," Strider purred. "But you still have a cha-"

"SHE IS NOT! A! RETARD!" Drift screamed. He saw red everywhere he looked. Before he knew what he had done, his hand flew and slapped her cheek so hard his eyeballs shook in his head. Strider slammed to the grass and rolled a few feet away. Her slurp had cracked into pieces, and the alcoholic drink was seeping into the grass, blue and purple.

Brite was sobbing now (_the Waterworks emote_) Drift sprinted over to her and cradled the bright haired girl into his arms. "C'mon, let's get out of here, Bri. I promise they'll leave us alone."

His head was throbbing with fury and his hands shook; but he managed to cooly lead her into the ATK. He almost pushed her into her seat, and he drove away as fast as he could; the screams and jeers from the pool fading away behind him.

They drove in silence as Drift fumed. He literally had no idea where he was going until they pulled up to the craggy rocks of Haunted Hills. Weathered dark stone buildings, dented metal fences, and several gravestones carved on with eyes greeted them.

Drift sighed and leaned his head on the steering wheel. "I'm sorry Brite," he said.

She didn't respond.


	3. Chapter 3

Evening had drawn over the island as Drift came huffing and puffing back up Llama Lump - the small plateau with the giant metal llama on the edge of Junk Junction. The sky was washed over with a deep blue hue; lavender clouds drifted faintly below. A bright moon was just beginning its ascent behind the volcano. Drift clutched a take out bag from Uncle Pete's Pizza Pit. In his ATK, Brite was still there, looking down at her lap silently.

"I'm sorry it took so long-" Drift began. He froze when Brite suddenly thrusted a fat blackbird in his face. It's body was peppered with bullet holes from Brite's pistol.

"Dinner," she said shortly.

"Nah, this is dinner," Drift plunked the bag of pizza on Brite's lap, relieved she felt like talking. The latter dropped the bird and opened the bag eagerly; dispelling the delicious smells of crispy crust, bubbly sauce, and melting cheese into the air. She pulled on a slice and happily took a bite.

"Extra cheese, just like you want it," Drift said with a grin.

While Brite ate, Drift rummaged through his back trunk for a campfire. He built a wooden mat, and plopped the unlit campfire on top. He broke off three sticks from a nearby tree and brought them to the fire. He stabbed two into the mat on both sides of it and split their protruding ends with his pocketknife to make forks. He took the blackbird in his hands and carefully checked it for remaining bullets. When he found none, he skinned off the feathers, ran the bird through with the third stick, and plopped it onto the forked sticks. A snap of his fingers produced a sizzling blaze from the campfire, and soon the smell of roasting blackbird filled the air.

"Yum! Burn the birdie! Burn it to a CRISP!" Brite chortled. She stepped down from the ATK and handed him the rest of the pizza. They sat in the warmth of the fire and ate in contented silence as they watched the bird sizzle and fry in the flames.

All of a sudden, Brite spoke again. "Those girls should burn like the birdie too."

"Oh, Bri Bri, don't listen to them," Drift gently contradicted. "They don't know you like I do." He nudged the empty pizza box into the fire and watched it flame up.

"No reason to treat me like that," she replied quietly. Anger framed the edges of her words like a few escaped embers threatening to burn an entire house.

"Those girls are the worst type. They think everything is about themselves," Drift continued. "They find their worth in the clothes the wear, the people they date, the money they have. And to put it simply, they're minigun-bush-level-thirsting-shitheads. And our job," he stabbed the fire with his pickaxe to keep it going, "-is to ignore them. Physical violence, if necessary."

"Physical violence. Brite's answer to everything," she replied. "I'll squeeze their brains out!"

"I'll punch anyone that gets in my way! Or yours," Drift said proudly. "If anyone should know about me, the master rifter, it should be I throw a meaaaaan punch!" He jumped up and thrusted his fist in the air to demonstrate. Brite laughed.

Drift sat down again, and his hand accidentally brushed Brite's. He heard a small gasp from her as their hands touched. Shocked at his boldness, Drift didn't move his hand. Brite didn't either.

Time froze as the two slowly grasped each other's fingers. Drift's heart pounded as they locked hands. He looked up and met her wide brown eyes. She was even more beautiful under the moonlight, he noticed. His heart nearly caught in his throat as a smile crept on his crush's face. He knew this was the perfect moment to confess.

"Bri Bri, I-I-" he stuttered. "I looove you. I l-love you, Brite."

She stared back at him, trying to comprehend. "You love me?" she breathed, barely audible. She let go of his hand, and his heart sank.

"Yeah, I hope you don't mind-" Drift rambled, suddenly anxious. "I don't think you feel the same and I don't care it's not your fault I just-"

Brite sniffed. It took a second for Drift to realize she was crying.

"Aww, please don't cry," he said, his heart breaking. Why didn't he just keep his mouth shut and just go shoot himself?

"Please, not me," Brite sniffled. "I'm a deranged retard. I'm not normal. I can't look people in the eyes. I can hurt people bad. Only Gunner understands, only Gunner..." she trailed off.

"But Bri Bri, you looked me in the eyes," Drift encouraged, scrounging for hope in every crevice. "You hang out with me every day. I don't want you to be normal. You're crazy beautiful and unique and I am soooooo in lo-"

"Stop!" Brite clapped her hands over her ears. She curled into a ball and refused to move.

"I'm sorry," Drift got up and hurried over to his ATK. He sat in the driver's seat and fought back the lump in his throat and the tears in his eyes.

* * *

AN for you horny 12 year old boys: I'm not writing smut or lemons for any of my fanfictions! Please ask someone else :)


	4. Chapter 4

_Bang bang bang_

"Drifttttttt?"

More banging. "Open the door!"

Drift ripped off his headset angrily and headed for the door. With Lucid Dreams pounding into his head and his bright computer screen inches away from his face, he hadn't heard the door.

He yanked open his front door impatiently. "What?"

Gunner stood outside, arms crossed. "Brite told me everything that happened on the Llama hill," he began.

"It's whatever," Drift dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "I don't know why I even said that."

"Thank you, though. For bringing her home," Gunner said comfortingly.

"Yeah. It's the least I could do," Drift replied. "Whatever happens, I'm never gonna treat her like those bitches did."

"I also heard about the pool incident," Gunner sighed. "Raven told me."

"That ghost just wanders around sticking his nose into everyone's business, doesn't he?" Drift retreated to his kitchenette, where he pulled a bag of scorching hot Doritos from the cupboard.

"Hey, lay off Raven. He's a good guy," Gunner defended.

"Good thing he's a ghost," Drift huffed. "If he was a solid person, he'd get into every girl's pants ever chance he got."

"Alright, lay off," Gunner raised his hands in a show of surrender.

"Then what are you here for?" Drift snapped. He tore open the bag of chips and fell back onto his gamer chair.

"Brite wants to talk."

"No shit!"

"I- I, this isn't my place to speak." Gunner said gravelly. "I'd rather have you come over to my place to talk it out with her."

"Classic. I'll just embarrass myself."

"Aww, just give it a shot," Gunner coaxed.

His only answer was Drift's obscenely loud crunching.

* * *

**Later...**

"Bri Bri, get the door please," Gunner called from the garage, where he had been reloading ammo into their guns.

Brite crawled off the couch reluctantly. She shyly cracked open the door and slammed it just as fast.

"Who was it?" Gunner yelled.

"No one," Brite yelled back. She sat down on the couch again.

Gunner sighed and walked toward the door. Drift was standing at the window, looking defeated. He was wearing his kitsune mask and his black and gold combat coat.

"Bri Bri, Drift has something to say," Gunner said as he opened the door.

"Okay," Brite murmured.

Drift walked in, limping. "I almost died getting over here."

"Explains your combat 'fit. What happened?"

"Nog Ops and her Christmas party, who else?" Drift huffed. "I need a med kit and a Sprite."

"In the cupboard."

Brite stood up from the couch. "I- I need a moment with him," she said.

Gunner nodded, went back to the garage and closed the door.

Drift edged toward the kitchen as he heard Brite approaching. His stomach knotted as he pulled out a med kit from the cupboard. He slid off his coat and kitsune mask, leaving him with just his normal clothes and a bare face. He felt awkward and self conscious. He didn't wear his black face mask with his kitsune, and now he missed it.

Popping open the med kit lid, he began to heal himself at the kitchen table as Brite watched. He expertly spilled the green heal on his wrist and tore open a pack of disinfectant with his teeth, which went over the heal. He slapped a bandage on top and wrapped it carefully. A few seconds later, his body was whole and healed again.

Brite went to the fridge and came back holding a can of Sprite. He noticed her hair was down. The pink locks fell around her shoulders in perfect waves and smelled of simmering raspberries. Was it ever down? She looked so pretty. She looked so cozy as well, in a fleecy lavender hoodie and a pair of gray leggings.

Brite slid it over.

"Gee, thanks," Drift said gratefully.

He reached for the can, but to his shock, Brite knocked his hand away fiercely. He turned to her in surprise to see her normally calm brown eyes alight with some strange fury. Before he could react, she grasped his shoulders and thrusted him onto the table. Drift fell fast to her strong hands, looking up in shock. He searched her face for the sign of Dark Bomber, a common alter ego for her kind. Yet no flecks of runes from the cube, glyphs, or glowing purple streaks distorted her. It was just Brite.

She hovered over him for half a second, and dove in hungrily. Drift went numb with shock as she kissed him, hard. Part of him was thrilled and excited; but the other half felt scared and confused. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. What the hell, what was he going to talk about when he came over anyway?

He wanted to pull out of the savage kiss, but his brain was losing the war of morality. He was sucked into the void of dark temptation. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt a girl on him like this. Maybe he never had.

Brite's hands wandered his body so freely, her lips bit his so temptingly, her warm breath against his skin made him faint with the strange feeling of lust. He felt hotter and hotter the harder and faster she did whatever she was doing to him. This wasn't the shy, innocent girl he'd spent months with on adventures, classes, gun fights. Why did it have to feel so _damn_ good?

Her slender hand slid down his chest and into his waistband. It sent a fierce kick into his paralyzed morality, startling him.

_No, this is too far! _His brain screamed. He threw himself upwards, sending Brite sprawling backwards against the fridge. She fell against it with a loud _thud_ and a cry of pain.

"Brite, just stop," he begged. He grasped for his coat and mask and hugged the items to him like they were lifelines.

Just then, Gunner burst in, looking angrier than he had ever seen the jovial man.

"What the hell happened?" Gunner shouted. He was literally aiming a loaded pump shotgun at Drift's face.

Brite sat up against the fridge, a disturbing sly smile on her face.

"Drift hit me," she said smugly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Dear gamers, my apologizes for the delay in a new chapter. I saw all your messages and was motivated to write for you guys! I've been having a busy summer, and of course lots of grinding for Fortnite!**

* * *

Drift had never seen Gunner so pissed, and confused at the same time. Brite's twin had been his good friend for months. They'd been nowhere near brothers, but there had always been a sense of peace and understanding between them. Drift's stomach roiled in anger as Brite slouched against the stomach, wincing in imaginary pain. Gunner looked back and forth, trying to process what was going on. He thankfully lowered his gun, but a menacing look replaced his initial face of shock as he turned to the nervous Drift.

"Get out," he said in quiet fury. His voice was taut like a loaded boom bow.

"I swear, I didn't do anything," Drift defended himself. "I pinky promise, cross my heart-" he was cut off by an angry look.

"Alright, what happened?" Gunner asked impatiently, like he was waiting for the whole situation to be over. Drift's throat went dry.

"Drift shoved me right off the table. Just because I was trying to help him heal himself," Brite replied, an evil glint in her otherwise clear, childlike eyes. She tried to hide that by letting out a quiet whimper.

Drift opened his mouth to respond, but not before a fist collided with his jaw. He was thrown backwards, staring in shock at Gunner. The latter was trembling in fury.

Drift's jaw reverberated with a heady, hot feeling. He wanted to explain himself, defend his actions; but all he could do was stay frozen in a shocked position. He flinched as Gunner reached over to the table, where he picked up Drift's coat and kitsune mask. The items were dropped in front of the cowering blond with a thud.

"Leave," Gunner growled coldly. It was clear he wanted no explanation. The action spoke for itself. As Drift picked up his things and stumbled out the door, he thought he saw a glint of regret in Gunner's eyes. But before he could get a second glance, the door was slammed in his face.

All that night, Drift curled up in his Paradise Palms blanket and sobbed his eyes out. He felt so confused and befuddled. He wanted to feel angry, he only felt sorry. He wanted to scream, but could only cry. He had returned home with just a throbbing jaw and hurt feelings; but sight of the laughing selfie of him and Brite, tacked up on his bedroom wall, made him burst into tears. Minutes, then hours passed, everything else forgotten but the sweet, innocent image he'd always carried of Brite disgustingly tainted and ruined.

Five months ago...

"I'd like to welcome our new student, Drift Abernathy," Principal Wick announced. The retired hitman principal walked about with an air of dignity and urgency wherever he went.

Drift felt himself being herded into the classroom. It was hardly a classroom, but some secret agent type bunker they'd jumped down two stories underground for. How they were supposed to get back upstairs Drift didn't know, but the sight of the suppressed pistol on Wick's belt made him hold his words.

Inside the bunker, students sat in rows of desks with the teacher in the front. She was a young, enigmatic woman with light up blue butterflies on her clothes and blinding radiant eyes that welcomed him with an angelic smile.

"Hi Dream, this is Drift, the new student," Principal Wick announced. Pairs of eyes swiveled on him, making Drift shrink.

"Hello, Drift. I'm Ms. Dream. Please sit next to this young lady over here." She gestured towards an empty seat next to a pink haired girl.

Drift had barely taken his seat when he heard a muffled sob emit from the girl's clenched lips. She was so colorful and beautiful he caught his breath. A crumpled paper was clutched in her hands; scrawled on with ugly, red handwriting. As Drift watched, she quietly tore the paper into little pieces and shoved them off her desk, her bottom lip trembling.

As Ms. Dream carried on with the day's lesson, Drift turned toward towards the girl. "Is everything okay?" He whispered.

"Bullies," Brite mumbled.

Drift leaned in, compassion tugging at his heart. Who'd bully this sweet looking girl?

"Who?" He asked.

"Strider, Snorkle, those girls right behind us," Brite replied.

Locating the girls proved to be easy. Drift had dealt with enough popular bitchness from where he'd came from to last him a lifetime. Their twisted, gossiping faces, long acrylics, and designer clothing could be spotted from a mile away. They were all using their phones under the desks, ignoring the world around them.

Drift tore a scrap of paper from his notebook and scrawled on a message: ur moms a hoeee

Folding it carefully, he created a tiny rift and tossed the paper into it. It landed right on the girls' notebooks, piquing their interest. The two relished in the protesting squeals behind them.

And that was how Brite Bomber and Drift Abernathy became friends.

Present

Drift sighed heavily as his soul plummeted to the depths of despair at the memory. Finding no other solution to his misery, he settled for one of his last resorts. He slid off the couch and crawled over to a locked cabinet under the sink. Undoing the locks with heavy hands, he drew out several slender bottles containing heavily spiked shield liquor. He felt guilty, but knew he deserved it.

"Just this one night," Drift whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. He ripped off the cap for one of the bottles and chugged.


	6. Chapter 6

"Has anyone seen Drift today?" Maven asked, looking up at the class as she took attendance. She had them set on doing their aerodynamics quiz, but there was one missing test taker.

The class responded with utter silence.

"Okay then, third day in a row," Maven checked the _absent_ box next to Drift's name on the attendance sheet. Her heart sank a little as she marked him absent once again. He was on the verge of an F now. Maven hated failing students, especially physically attractive guys that caught her eye. She'd been swept off her feet the moment Drift Abernathy walked into her warehouse that wonderful summer day. He was shy and mostly slept through her classes, but she held a strange liking for him. Maybe, a little more she dared not admit, not even to herself. And now she had to fail the guy.

Sun Strider was the first to finish her quiz. Lazy Link's prized pool lifeguard waltzed to Maven's table, letting all the guys get a salacious look at her booty shorts clad ass as she daintily placed her paper on the table. She looked her teacher from head to toe with a smirk before sweeping away. Maven shrank in slight fear and reprimand from Strider. The latter radiated so much of sex and lustful beauty Maven could feel it crackling in the air.

Next up came Sentinel and Airheart, the two cheerful aviation nerds she'd shared company with. Maven relaxed as the two dropped off their quizzes with smiles and headed back to their desk. She liked the two. Gradually the whole class finished, and Maven tallied up their tests.

Just then, the bell rang, and her students filed out quickly. Strider left hastily, arm in arm with her little counterpart, the cowgirl Calamity. They both gave Maven a superior smirk, making the teacher shrink even farther down her desk. And just then, Maven's eye caught on Strider's quiz paper.

_I know what happened to Drift. xx, stridie 3,_ she'd scribbled at the top corner. Maven whipped up her head in shock, but Strider was gone.

_The nerve of that little bitch,_ Maven thought angrily as her mouth went dry. Whatever mild dislike she held for Strider intensified to a flaming hatred. She'd seen how Strider could push people's buttons to get her way. And now she was becoming just another button to push too. She grasped her pen in her hand so hard the cap cracked off. _How the fuck did that little skeeze know my secret?_

She yanked off her glasses and wiped them on her blouse, fuming and feeling powerless. Although she was twenty three, a good few years older than the class she taught, she might as well be a whole decade younger the way some looked down on her.

She stared down at the pile of tests to grade, feeling numb. A wave of emotion rose in her and the words, numbers, and calculations written before her eyes blurred into a grayish soup. She barely realized she was sobbing until someone cleared their throat at the half open doorway.

"Ms. Maven?" Drift called softly.

Maven's stomach did a pleasant flip and she straightened, swiping at her eyes with a random tissue. "Sorry, just some bad allergies," she said, feigning cheerfulness.

"It's the middle of winter," Drift responded with a humorous note.

"I- I'm allergic t- to-" she giggled suddenly, "assholes like Sun Strider," the confession slipped out like juice from a broken slurp bottle. She clapped a hand over her mouth. "Aww shit, I didn't mean to say th- sorry! I didn't mean to swear too!"

Drift chuckled, his deep, warm voice stirring a warmth in her lower stomach. "Oh, I'm not too hot with her either," he said. He walked up to her desk, the smile fading.

Maven beheld Drift, scanning him all over. He looked worn and bruised, a slight limp in his step. Most notably, a large bruise was fading on his cheek. Something she might not have noticed if she hadn't blatantly stared at him occasionally...

She shook off the daze and went back to teacher mode. "So how can I help you?" She asked. "And where have you been?"

Drift reached into his backpack and pulled out a packet. "All of this week's work," he stated plainly. "I was uh, sick for a few days." Maven heard the lie in his voice. She scanned over his work, finding it passable.

"Did you try calling in?" She questioned.

"I was blackout sick, like I said." Drift covered up quickly.

"Blackout sick, huh."

"Yup."

"And what about that pink haired unicorn girl you hang out with, blackout sick too?"

Drift immediately went pale and he visibly flinched at the mention. "N-nothing," he said painfully.

"Well, I have this whole stack of quizzes to grade. I'd better get on it," Maven said.

"Where's Strider's?" Drift asked suddenly.

"Uh, right here." Maven pushed over one of the quizzes. Before she could react, he'd grabbed a red pen and scrawled an F on the paper. "That's for messing with my awesome teacher," he smirked.

Maven felt no need to rectify him. She smiled as her heart beat faster. He liked her.

* * *

**Before y'all grab your phones to dial the FBI, Maven is 23 and Drift's class age group is 20-21. No underage mfs on my watch (cool face) Nice try, FBI!**


	7. Chapter 7

"So let me get this straight- you tumbled down through a rift from a place called earth?" Maven chortled, clutching a bottle of amontillado.

They were cozied up in Drift's, Maven sprawled on his bed and Drift slouched in his gaming chair. Maven was wearing an oversized while pullover hoodie with a Borderlands graphic on the front. A pair of leather thigh high boots were the only thing that covered her legs. Her hair was unkempt, wavy black tresses cascading down her shoulders. Drift had opted for a light pink Power Chord shirt for himself and black sweatpants.

"Yeah. It's crazy," Drift replied, grinning. His cheeks were hot and flushed with liquor, and his heart beat swiftly in his chest.

"Naw. I don't believe it," Maven took another swig. "Actually, I might. Hot guys like you are solely extraterrestrial." She laughed.

Drift's stomach warmed pleasantly. He loved the attention Maven was giving him. "Well, I'm glad I fell into this dimension," he scooted over to give her an affectionate smile. Their eyes locked, and Drift felt a knot inside of him unwind.

The spell was abruptly shattered as Drift's phone vibrated with an incoming call. He froze when he saw the ID. Maven raised herself on an elbow to look.

"Damn, unicorn girl isn't it?" She commented as Brite's called ID lit up the screen.

"S-should I respond?" Drift whispered.

"I guess?" Maven prompted.

Drift accepted the call. "Hello?" He said cautiously.

"Drifty?" A familiar voice replied from the other side.

"Oh, hi," Drift said uncertainly.

"Do you want to, uh, hang out again?" Brite asked.

"Are you serious?" Drift could hardly believe his ears. Blood rushed through his head. He excused himself and shut himself in the bathroom.

"Yeah..." Brite replied.

"What makes you think I'd hang out with someone like you again, after what you did?" He hissed.

"Because... because..."

"Fuck no, you little bitch," Drift snarled, then hung up. He felt a pang of regret as he left the bathroom, but resolve replaced mercy. She had assaulted him.

"Everything okay?" Maven called.

"Yeah, it's whatever." Drift silenced his phone and tossed it onto his desk. He shook off his anger and grabbed his liquor. A hard swig later, he settled on the bed next to Maven.

"Something happened, didn't it," Maven said. She set her empty bottle down. Damn, she drank fast.

"Yeah, I might as well tell you, Brite- she- never mind," Drift said. He blinked as objects in the room started to shift and swirl. "Dammit, I'm getting wasted."

"I've been like this for half and hour now," Maven giggled. "You don't fully experience life till you've seen true colors in drunkenness."

"Are you gonna start lecturing on the four stages of flight and the equations for proper thrust now?" Drift teased. He was leaning in so close without realizing it.

"Hell no, babe." Maven replied, her voice a tone soft and angelic. In his drunken state, Drift could perfectly picture a shining halo in her mussed locks.

"Did you just call me babe?" He smirked.

"Hey, it's pretty obvious I'm into you by now, isn't it?" Maven's lip curled. Her eyes sparkled at him.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, then pulled away guiltily.

"Yup," Drift said. He laid down and closed his eyes.

Maven sighed. Her eyes rested on the photo of him and Brite at Lazy Links taped above his desk. "You know Strider?"

"Yeah?"

"She knows. She knows I like you," Maven admitted in a rush of words.

"How do you know?"

"On her test. Stupid prick wrote 'I know your drift secret' or whatever the hell. Not like I can do anything about it," Maven growled.

"She's just jealous. She's my ex from about a year ago and she won't stop pegging me even with ten guys worshipping the ground she walks on daily," Drift explained. "I would ignore it at this point, she doesn't deserve our attention." He poked Maven's nose with his fingertip. "Especially beautiful teachers like you who have so much more to set their minds to."

Maven's cheeks colored at the praise. Drift patted her black hair affectionately. Why not just kiss her already?

Maven seemed to be thinking the same, but neither of them acted on it. The silence grew tense and awkward.

Drift cleared his throat. "Say... I'm gonna see that new Wreck It Ralph movie at Risky Reels tomorrow night, wanna come along?"

"So is it a date?" Maven asked knowingly.

"If we have drinks, cozy blankets, and each other, then I don't see why not." His mind felt so fogged up and giddy. He just wanted to live.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hiii hoeeeee gamers. It's been a while since I updated. Life has been a total buttcheck on a stick and I've been having a big disinterest in writing. But, a recent comment stirred me back into action! Alas! The old island is no more. For the sake of keeping things in control, the rest of the story will take place on the old island and only with characters from seasons 1-10.**

* * *

The chatter of cheerful voices mixed with the warm, sticky evening; as cars, ATKs, and quadcrashers pulled into Risky Reel's drive in theater. Tonight was showing 'Wreck-It-Ralph Breaks the Internet'- a film anticipated by many. Drift was cozied up in his own ATK, complete with a snack and drink cooler and fluffy blankets. He wanted to make this night perfect for him and Maven's first "date". He'd folded down the backseat to make a little cozy nest. As he grabbed his keys from the ignition, his eyes caught on the Burger Boss keychain hanging from the rear view mirror. A flashback of Brite's laugh as she tinkled it rushed through his mind.

"Screw it," he mumbled, angrily shaking off the memory. He grabbed the keychain and threw it under his seat, out of sight.

Just then, Nog Ops walked by, accompanied by her usual Christmas party. Armed to the teeth with candy cane weapons and gingerbread ale, they glanced at Drift with disdain and disinterest before walking to their group.

"Hey assholes, say hi!" A deep, feminine voice yelled behind him. Drift turned around to see Beach Bomber sauntering over, hauling a massive sack of kettle corn. The Christmas party slinked out of sight.

"Hey," Drift said cautiously. Tall, well sculpted, and ruggedly attractive, Beach was one of the island's best snipers... and the loosest woman in town. Maybe as loose as Sun Strider, but there was some competition. There was a rumor going around she'd banged the entire football team. Or was it the flamingos club? He caught himself stealing a glance at her luscious ass and toned tanned thighs. She was experienced, sexy, confident. Something he'd never amount to in his lifetime.

"You got a date?" Beach questioned, finally noticing Drift was alone.

"Uh, yeahhhh. She's coming," Drift replied, hoping this conversation would end.

"Is she imaginary?" Beach scoffed, before heading out of earshot.

"Oh, fuck off!" He shouted after her.

By a charred up RV, he spotted Omega and Rust Lord comparing their nonexistent arm muscles while their retard friends chortled along. Teknique and Abstrakt pulled up in their paint splattered van, blasting Queen. Even Peely and Fishsticks were playing Ride the Pony, together. He felt so alone as he stared out into the sea of vehicles and people.

_Where could Maven be?_ He thought to himself. The movie was about to start.

Drift sighed deeply. Everyone was too busy for him. He tried waving to Omega's hooligans to no avail. Teknique and Abstrakt never glanced his way. Peely and Fishstick settles to eating bananas. His stomach suddenly growled and he realized how hungry he was. He had gotten so wrapped up in the excitement of hanging out with Maven he'd forgotten to eat dinner. Reaching into the snack cooler, he pulled out a container of kimbap (sushi) rolls and munched on a few.

The film started, and Drift was so wrapped up in the plot he forgot about everything else. He loved these CGI movies brought to life through technology and imagination. He loved the contrast of the hunky Ralph and the tiny, sour-sweet Vanellope. He managed to keep himself mostly composed- he only cried one time! Soon he'd emptied the entire snack cooler into his stomach just as the credits began to roll.

As the fantasy bubble of the movie melted away, Drift was suddenly confronted by a horrifying fact. Cars began to pull away as the credits wrapped up. Friends sauntered past without a glance, a few sympathetic comments whisked themselves over with the warm breeze as some discovered his plight. He felt a punch in the stomach when he realized Maven had never even showed up.

"What the hell," he mumbled angrily. He pulled out his phone to dial her number when an unwelcome sight caught his eye by the ticketing booth. A pair of scantily clad, writhing bodies on a cherry picnic blanket. A head of light blonde hair and a second of black pigtails. Poison red crop top and a discarded Borderlands hoodie. Designer sandals, half unzipped leather boots. One he barely knew, the other wise and reserved. Or so he thought.

Drift calmly walked up to Laguna and Maven. The two looked up, their faces blushed, sweating, and guilt free- and radiating the pure aura of sex.

"You should've told me earlier," Drift said flatly, without a hint of emotion.

Maven started to say something, but stopped herself short. There was no explanation needed for the shitty thing she'd done.

_Later_...

Drift lazily watched the flickering stove as gaseous flames lapped up and down the sides of greased woks. Sushi Master expertly switched between pots and pans, stirring something here, flipping something there. The comforting aroma of sizzling Chinese cuisine wrapped him like a blanket. Overhead, the fluorescent lights buzzed quietly, the only sound accompanying Sushi's near silent companionship. The chef had never been one of many words, but Drift found it rather easing. He liked Lucky Landing, an underrated and underpopulated gem on the island. Golden Dragon had become a comfort restaurant to him.

Seconds later, a steaming dish was slid in front of Drift- a glistening heap of noodles, pork, and bok choy. He wolfed it down eagerly, earning a pleased nod from Sushi. The restaurant was nearly empty, save for a nonchalant couple playing cards over half finished rice bowls; and a group of sleepy looking guys awaiting their food. The two old TV's sat muted at some soap opera. The OPEN sign flickered off and on. Drift glanced at the wall mounted clock, and found it was near 11 PM. He finished his food just as Sushi was beginning to wrap up for the night. The restaurant was now all empty.

"Special customer Drift! You're out late, everything good?" Sushi questioned, wiping down the counter.

Drift shook his head. "Tough night. I got stood up," he admitted.

"Maven, huh?" Sushi chuckled.

"How did you know?" Drift demanded, clutching his chopsticks.

"Ah, word spreads fast. Especially on those new fangled smartphones you kids have. I found it quite, I dare say, amusing."

Drift bit back the urge to snap, _screw you_. In his cozy little restaurant cooking for friendly locals day in and out, being a couple decades older, and having a loving family; Sushi couldn't hold a candle to him.

"Well, it made me feel like shit," he retorted softly. His fingers traced the faded flower pattern of the counter.

"Well, I'd make it up with you," Sushi jokingly winked at Drift.

The latter laughed. "Thanks, but no thanks."

Suddenly, the phone rang in an adjacent room. Sushi hurried to check it, leaving Drift to mull over his half finished soda. When he returned, the blond was surprised to see him crank up a wok again.

"I thought you were closed," he observed.

"Another special customer, I make exceptions for others besides you, of course," Sushi grinned as he tossed some leftover ingredients together.

"And who are they?" Drift questioned playfully.

"Speak of the devil, they're right behind you," Sushi replied, just as the restaurant's glass doors swung open with the tinkling of the door bell.

Drift turned around, and wished he hadn't.


	9. Chapter 9

He whipped around to see his very, very, very favorite person in the whole effing world enter in the Golden Dragon. Gunner. He was wearing full combat gear and had an assault rifle strapped to his back. He looked passive but intent as he pulled out a teleport orb from his satchel. Sushi shifted behind the cash register and pulled out a shotgun.

Drift paled as his hand crept to his belt for his shotgun only to find its absence. Out of all days...

"W-what's going on?" Drift demanded.

"I found out," Gunner replied. "that Brite tried to rape you."

Drift's stomach jolted at the word. He never wanted to think about what happened that scarring night that way.

"H-how?" He asked. His eyes became fixed on the ground. His bottom lip quivered.

"She confessed one night. And not only did she confess that, but she also told of Sun Strider's slander." He sighed.

"What am I supposed to do?" Drift asked. His eyes darted all over the restaurant, seeking answers from inanimate furniture.

"That's what we have all joined together tonight for," Sushi said in a low voice.

"Consider this... a gift," Gunner replied, his voice low and gravelly. He smashed the orb into the ground, and the restaurant dissolved into a pure white room with no door. The walls, ceiling, and floor were made out of white light. Three women were already there, chained and struggling against cuffs of light.

His ex girlfriend, aviation teacher, and best friend. The three women were forced on his knees before him with an invisible force. No one spoke.

"What the hell..." Drift breathed, filled with disbelief. Rage rose in his stomach as he saw the women who had caused him so much grief before him.

"These three women have lied, stolen, or betrayed you or of you," Sushi spoke, each word dripping with contempt. "Escaping punishment by either the bat of a seductive eyelash-" he looked at Strider, "-or wisdom of the world-" he looked at Maven, "-or, falsified stupidity of the mind," he turned to Brite with a contemptuous look.

"Y-you lied?" Drift stuttered, looking at Brite. "I-I thought you were always deranged!"

"You know, I probably am... I never wanted to get close with you, Drift," Brite said in a low and saddened voice. "But you just wanted it to happen. I... I had no way out."

"You had EVERY way out! Why didn't you say anything?!" Drift spat angrily. He bit back a tirade of angry words as Gunner and Sushi turned towards him. Brite shrank back, her sullen eyes filling with a despaired look.

"And you! What do you have to confess?" Drift hissed at Maven. "Your secret love for women you were too fearful to admit? Even to the point of seducing your own student?!"

"Drift, punishment will be carried-" Gunner began, but Drift cut him off.

"I want answers first."

"You thought I loved you, didn't you?" Maven said, her brown eyes gleaming. The maliciousness soon drained, however. "You were so handsome... desperate... desperate for anyone to fill your void," her eyes softened. "I hate myself for what I did. I wish I could've been the proper teacher you needed," She hung her head. At this, Brite turned and glared at her. Tiny flames of jealousy flickered across her eyes before it was snuffled to a glazed gaze once again.

"Maybe I could've actually learned!" Drift exclaimed sarcastically.

Finally, Drift turned to Strider. A true beauty no longer, or maybe ever, but a spitting image of glamorous poison that never ran out.

"I assume you want to confess the last dick you rode," he spat with a dry laugh.

Strider glared at him, a catlike scowl forming on her face. "Screw you."

As silence stretched between them, Sushi cleared his throat.

"And as you being the victim, Drift Abernathy, you are to decide the fate of these sinful souls," he finished. Sushi handed him his shotgun. "Unless you chose to be merciful."

Drift looked at the women. He took the shotgun. It felt heavy and cold in his hands. Strider was emotionless. Maven still hung her head. But Brite, Brite was looking up at him with tears in her big blue eyes. Her lip was quivering with unspoken sorrow. This was his former best friend he was condemning. His only friend.

"There is a sole shell in the shotgun," Sushi instructed. For a second, Drift wondered at how this jolly chef could be such a remorseless commander. "You shall choose the sealed fate for one of these women who has wronged you in the most unforgivable way. It cannot be undone."

His resolve hardened again. He lifted the gun and clicked off the safety. He looked right into the eyes of Brite.

"Never again."

He fired, and the blast reverberated throughout the arena, and around his heart as well.


	10. Chapter 10 (finale)

Brite's left eye was gone.

Most of the time, she wore a cool pirate eye patch like what Blackheart rocked at Lazy Lagoon, but sometimes she just left her brand new glass eye bare to the world. A new sea green iris in place of her deep brown one. It was a survivor's testament for all who cared to see. That, or a brand of shame.

Drift shot out her eye that night. He felt the rush when the bullet left the chamber and blasted into Brite's face. He heard bloody screaming as her body thumped to the pure white floor. Hands tore at his hair. A terrible blow wrought his stomach. The ground rushed to him. The screaming wouldn't stop.

He later realized that it was all from him.

Miraculously, the rest of her remained fine. Gunner confirmed he and Sushi had used a specially developed bullet to get the job done, but not too much. In short, not too much as to kill her.

Gunner, the man had good, deep seated intentions after all. Drift wished him and Sushi well.

Strider? Dead, probably. Through the string of men she ran through faster than mini shields she was bound to run into a dangerous one.

Maven? Expelled from her job, imprisoned, left to rot. Or maybe, scraping by just fine. Who gave a shit? Sometimes, Drift found himself giving one. He was just that soft.

Fast forward several long months. He was now a happy, engaged man. Of course, Brite was no ideal partner; but he couldn't bear the thought of having to put up with yet another deceptive woman.

That wasn't always true, though. Airheart from uni and Zoey from his favorite candy shop were sweeter to him than a headshot kill. His previous teacher, Ms. Dream taught him the wonders of astrology and gave him crystals and oils. And never once did she suggest anything out of book. Beach Bomber played cards with him at Paradise Inn every chance she got.

Still, Drift targeted most of his time at remaining solitary. He felt changed by everything that had happened in that small square of time. Brite helped, she was like her old self again. Quirky, naive, chic. She was sometimes clumsy and reliant due to her single eye, but Drift didn't mind. He bought her a spacey flat by John Wick's crib and a pricey engagement ring she slipped on with delight. Still, tension rose like the storm sometimes, and Drift felt isolated in his own world of familiar fears.

The biggest secret that had been revealed was Brite's sanity. She wasn't deranged, just stupid. Not uncontrolled by factors in her mind, but painfully aware. Controlling and manipulative. But at the same time- sweet, comforting, a lit fire pit in the blithering storm. Sometimes, he would look at Brite's eye patch and think about he tried to kill his ex best friend- and now fiancée- with that one bullet. It had been so instinctive, he felt scared sometimes. He wasn't a murderer. Not a robber of lives. Not a robber of humanity. It was just him, Drift Abernathy. Just him...

After all, no one would ever want to lose not even one, but two eyes, would they?

* * *

"Thinking, sweetheart?" Brite asked one evening. She slipped her fingers onto his neck, rubbing ever so softly.

Drift was sitting on the roof, looking at the royal hues of another gorgeous sunset. Their location at the edge of the island provided unprecedented views of the horizon. He often found himself here; thinking, imagining, visualizing.

"Naw, just peeking the sunset," he responded airily.

Brite sat down next to him, sliding into his arms. Drift welcomed her warmly, and the two melded in an affectionate embrace. The couple looked on, sharing each other's warmth in the cooling air.

A few minutes later, he felt a sharp poke at his side. "I knowww you're thinking about something," Brite purred, smiling.

Drift grinned as he grabbed her waist firmly. "Yeah, this."

He leaned in and kissed her firmly, their lips exchanging a passionate and much needed kiss. Her muted pink lips tasted indistinctly sweet and her hair smelled like the familiar scent of simmering raspberries. Her arms snaked around his muscled stomach, and he shivered in pleasure as her teeth nipped his bottom lip. He pushed her down underneath on the roof, grinding onto her lovely body as they went deeper into the arduous kiss. It was close to heaven when they embraced like that. It was ages before they broke apart again, panting for breath. Brite was smiling.

The last ray of sun had dipped behind the sea, bathing the sky in twilight cobalt. Twinkling stars took their places. In the distance, a few Stormwings swooped about, shooting at each other. But something deep in him was missing. A loving connection to Brite Bomber.

He rested his head next to Brite's, looking into her nearly iridescent eyes.

"I love you," Brite whispered, honestly.

Drift cast his eyes to the darkening heavens, a citadel of unexplored calamity, before responding.

"I-I just appreciate you," he replied, matching her honesty.

The smile melted off his fiancée's face.

He didn't love her yet, not now. But in this case of sunshine and rainbows, he had their whole future left to do so.

**The End**

* * *

**And that brings an end to_ A Case of Sunshine and Rainbows_. Thank you to everyone that commented, voted, or just read. I love writing fanfiction and this was no exception. What really powered me through, though, was your comments. I read every single one. It means a lot to me :)**

**Cheers to a successful future to us (and Brift) in Fortnite and in writing.**

**Astraea**


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